Elf Juice and Gloom

Well,  I think I figured out why Santa didn’t bring me that 1973 Pantera I lust for.

1227151022-00How was I to know Coca-Cola was gonna toss elves into a blender and hit puree then sell it at the store??? My bad.

We are in day three of wet cold gloom. To say it’s dragging me down would be an understatement. I am fighting the depressive inertia but it’s not going well. Once again, I just can’t find my giddy up and go. Meanwhile we’re bordering on biohazard six and the yard looks like a cyclone hit it (thanks, wind storm) so I am overwhelmed and clueless where to start. “Just do it” doesn’t seem to work for me. I go to do something,see everything that needs done, and I essentially cower in panic and shamble back to the safety of my bedroom crypt.

I am back to not even being able to decide what to nosh on so my stomach rumbles and I just ignore it and put off having to make any sort of decision cos everything tastes like gruel anyway, courtesy of all the damned meds. (No, doctors, I don’t care if you say the meds don’t affect tastebuds as you haven’t been taking them for twenty plus years so what do you fucking know.)

If the depressive inertia would just let up, I might be okay. The anxiety has certainly been manageable now that I haven’t had to contend with the dish and its dwellers for three days. I mean, okay, total withdrawal isn’t good for the depression, but it’s a fucking cure for the crippling anxiety. Who wouldn’t want to jump on that and hump its leg?

So much in bipolar and anxiety disorders is a trade off. Side effects versus benefit. Doing what will quell anxiety yet not help depression because being sad isn’t nearly as paralyzing as being frozen like a deer in headlights with panxiety. Take a med to get to sleep, spend the entire day shaking off the coma effect. Eating even though it could in combo with certain meds make you gain weight.

Trade offs suck.

So as much as I want to be a badass and tear through the housework like a tornado…I don’t think it’s going to happen again today. Bare minimum once again. This motivation thing irks me. I get it maybe once a week and I never know when it will hit me. Otherwise I am stuck in inertia hell.

That leads to self bullying and feeling lazy and weak.

Which adds to depression and being overwhelmed.

Some days I just want to be locked into a padded room with a dozen purring cats, my Xanax, and a laptop to stream soothing narrated shows from. Because every other thing on the planet seems to make me go batshit.

Of course, I am a mom now, and as my mother has pointed out…I don’t “get” to have a breakdown cos I have a child counting on me. (Funny, as she spent three weeks in a psych ward when I was sixteen and she had two kids.)

Blarghh.

I stuck to my old counselor’s advice and set a goal for myself. I took out trash. Yep. I know, pathetic. But having done that one thing…Anything else today is gravy. I am exhausted from the anxiety of the hellidays and all the dish dwelling and if I need to shut down for a third day to recover…so be it.

Just won’t be drinking anymore elf juice. These pointy ears are not an attractive look on me.

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5 Responses to “Elf Juice and Gloom”

  1. Apparently, without receiving due diligence, anthropocentric climate change shifted the Midwest 2,000 miles to the west, landing us in Seattle. Fucking Seattle in the winter, of all grim places. I remember, now, why I only lasted for a year in Portland. Where are my blue skies, bright sun, frostbitten fingers, crystal-shagged boughs, and Midwestern-appropriate cursing and grumbling? Brave new world, Morgue. (That nearly auto-corrected to “Grave New World,” but I couldn’t let it stand, you might name a blog title after it.) Btw, thanks for the UPS over-night severed head delivery. You can sleep peacefully. I give your sleepy frozen head the tenderest of stabs. Seems quite happy.

  2. Your counsellor is right goals are vital when you are feeling stuck, even if it is just taking the trash out. Last year I was having a nervous breakdown and was doing crazy OCD checking rituals 10 hours a day, till 5am. But every couple of days I would reset my OCD goals – for example reducing checking the car from a thousand times a night to 980. Even tiny reductions in the OCD gave me an impression of moving forwards which I desperately needed as the OCD was making me suicidal. Keep setting even the tiniest goals, they really work. http://bit.ly/1ER5cLY

  3. It may sound silly but it’s also a great idea to give yourself a “yay me!” when you check off one of the tasks. We’re all so overwhelmed by the Everything that it seems like we’re always behind no matter what we do. So it has to be up to us to pause after an accomplishment – no matter the size – and say, “Hey, I just met that goal! Woot!” Then do something nice like take a deep breath or read some of that cheesy novel on the bedside table. If you celebrate the little stuff, you’re more likely to feel motivated to do it next time. And even if you’re not, it’s still nice to be nice to You. Because you’re awesome.

  4. I posted yesterday about a lot of the things you are writing about here. I guess we’re in the same mental space. I understand the whole deal with cleaning the house being too daunting. I have the same problem. I just don’t know where to start, so I don’t start. But, my therapist says the same as yours. Pick a simple thing to do “and the rest is gravy”. Sometimes it motivates me to do more and sometimes it sends me to bed for the rest of the day from exhaustion. Then I beat myself senseless because how can taking out the trash make me exhausted. It’s a big fat mess.

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